


Tenacity

by Little_Lotte



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 00:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30131175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Lotte/pseuds/Little_Lotte
Summary: An AU set in Feynite's version of Elvhenan where Lavellan is a spirit who befriends a certain wolf serving under Mythal.Pretty soft and fluffy atm, eventual Solavellan. Not really a firm plotline, so rating subject to change.
Relationships: Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Looking Glass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867676) by [Feynite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feynite/pseuds/Feynite). 



Tenacity is a very small spirit.

It came into being deep in the wilds during a particularly hard winter. Animals scraping bark from trees and digging up roots and other less than appetizing things in an effort to survive. Plants pushing up through the snow, fighting for a glimpse of sunlight. A rushing stream steadily beating against rocks and ice until it could wind its way to the sea.

It had been a little confused about what it was meant to be at first. Perseverance or Stubbornness, or perhaps even Hope. Because, despite its size, Tenacity had felt that it embodied a very big feeling. Something solid and bright humming through its entire being. A candle burning in a dark room struggling to push back shadows as best it can.

Curiosity had helped it see the truth of its nature, though, and it had led a good life out among the trees and lakes and mountains. Encouraging new life and helping plants and animals find their way around various hardships.

But in the end, it was its own curiosity that led it near to where the elves lived. It wondered if perhaps some impression of the other spirit who had helped it form lingered in them still, for it felt a deep yearning to reach beyond itself and all it knew. There must be other creatures with other struggles that needed help and reassurance. The forest was good and safe and quiet, but the nature of Tenacity is to press forward, and after several millennia, if found that it did not have anywhere left to go within the safety of its home.

And so it decided to leave.

It knew the risks, of course. Little spirits do not generally fare well under the Evanuris, and with so many people struggling to climb ever higher in rank and regard, it would be all too easy for it to be twisted into Obsession or possibly even Greed.

It chooses Mythal's holdings because she has a reputation for being kinder towards spirits than most. Or at least slightly less prone to sacrificing them on a whim.

Caution and shyness are not part of Tenacity's nature, but it does not wish to die. To be used in some ritual or other to fuel the fires of Elvhenan's glory. So, it contents itself with watching, for a time. It seeks companionship with others of its kind. Honor and Compassion and Duty. Sorrow and Desire and Rage. It is very different from the time they spent in the forest, but it is not certain that one place is preferable to the other.

Then it discovers the library.

And _oh_ , it can feel the clear purpose of its being echo in that place. So many people, spirits and elves alike, all struggling to better themselves in some way. The ardor of the authors battling with words and images to portray the story they mean to tell. The readers parsing out meanings. The researchers seeking new truths in old knowledge.

It nearly shatters itself with vibrations of pure delight. 

Every day there is a new challenge, a new hurdle to overcome. A book that needs finding. Old spells that need to be reworked to suit new purposes. A poem that needs just the right words to entice a lover.

Tenacity flits every which way, helping those who will accept its assistance. Shining with intent like a fist full of flames. Joyous and giddy with the realness of all that it embodies.

He is sitting by himself the first time it sees him, surrounded by piles of books.

It is hardly a strange sight in this place, and yet there is something about him that gives it pause. Sparking that tiny imprint of curiosity within its being. It hesitates for a moment, uncertain about approaching when it does not have something helpful to say.

"You are looking for something," it says, buzzing slightly with a hint of something that might be nervousness, "But the thing you are trying to find is not in any of those books. It's not in any book. Not really. But you know that, and you read them anyway, not only because you enjoy it, but because you hope that they will eventually piece themselves into what you want. How strange."

He glances up from his book.

"You are very small for a spirit of Purpose," he notes casually.

"I am Tenacity!" it declares, zipping around him once and flaring brightly for a moment, "I want to help those who struggle towards a worthy goal. I can see it in you, the long nights of study, the blistered hands, and careful words. You are working very hard to become something you are not born to by nature. Will you tell me what it is?"

"You cannot see it for yourself?" he wonders, setting his book aside to give it his full attention.

"I am not Desire," it replies, "I can only see the toil, the wish for something more, and what might be needed to achieve the next step along the path to what you are striving for. Sometimes the want is clear, but others… Things get muddled. People think they are reaching for one thing, but it is not what they truly want, or even what would be good for them. Perhaps a more powerful spirit could see more than I can, but it would be easier if you tell me."

"You do realize that what you are asking is a fairly personal question?" he wonders.

"Does it matter?" it blinks at him in turn, "I want to know, and I'll only keep asking. Tenacious, you know."

It giggles at its own joke, to which the man sighs in apparent exasperation.

"I…was a spirit once, like you," he confesses, "But I was dissatisfied with my own nature. I hoped that with enough time and searching, I might become Wisdom. But I failed. The Lady Mythal asked me to take a body and serve her in another way, but…I would still like to pursue wisdom and knowledge. A spirit may change the nature of its being, or be changed by its environment. I would like to think that I could still alter my spirit, even though I have a physical form now."

"Oh!" Tenacity exclaims, "But that is a marvelous goal! Possibly the most admirable one I have encountered yet. Wisdom is so elusive and changing. The path you must take to reach it is long and arduous, and it will cost you much, but you can still achieve it as you are."

"Really?" he asks, sounding genuinely surprised, "How?"

"It's…too big for me," Tenacity admits, "The pieces are all there, but they're spaced out. Distant and blurry. But I can still help! Please let me! I want to see you reach your aspirations."

"If you like," he replies, smiling the smile of a person who is humoring someone out of good nature.

Tenacity whirls away, off to find books written by the greatest minds of the empire, and perhaps see if there are any spirits nearby who could point it in the right direction for helping its new friend. He has likely tried these avenues himself already, but it can see clearer paths of what information and connections will be helpful than he could. There is so much to do! So much to explore! Wisdom does not come so easily to some as it does to others. Her new friend seems very smart, but it still thinks that this will be hard for him.

It circles back to his books-strewn table a few moments later though, having suddenly realized something.

"Oh, I meant to ask," it says, trembling with excitement at the prospect of such a long difficult quest, "What sort of spirit were you before you became an elf? It might make a difference, you know!"

He smiles at it again, with something that seems like the beginnings of genuine fondness.

"Pride."


	2. Chapter 2

The years roll by, and Tenacity finds that it enjoys Pride’s company very much. Perhaps more than any other being it has met before, although Curiosity is a close contender. He works on tasks assigned to him from the Lady Mythal, as well as researching the answers to questions of his own, all while searching for the key to wisdom, and Tenacity offers help and encouragement wherever it can. Pride is patient with its musings and inquiries, there are many things it does not understand about Elvhenan after living most of its life out in the forest, and he does not seem to mind when it bobs along after him, even when he ventures outside of the library.

He will not let it accompany him when he must attend his lady in Arlathan, however. And battlefields are completely out of the question.

It had argued the point, naturally.

Tenacity would be very good for things like bringing important messages and helping ensure that it is adrenaline and not fear that sinks into their soldiers' hearts. And Arlathan has some of the biggest libraries in the empire. And there is an entire merchant's district for it to explore, filled with people toiling each day to craft and build for their patrons. So many wonders to discover. So many achievements it could help reach!

But Pride will not be persuaded. Tenacity is too small. Its light is not strong enough. It would be all too easy for someone to ensnare it and use it to fuel the magics for whatever project they happened to be working on. Some might try to shatter it simply because they could.

Tenacity does not think it is so easy to destroy as its friend makes it sound, but it is true enough that Pride knows more about these sorts of things than it does. It nearly follows after him to the city once or twice, regardless of warnings. It thinks better of it at the last moment though. It does not think that its form is fragile, bit it _is_ very small. It is good for going unnoticed sometimes, but it would not be good for defending itself.

Which is why it begins to ponder the notion of acquiring a physical form of its own.

The first time it voices the thought aloud is when it had come looking for Pride by following traces of him through the Dreaming, and found him practicing his sword work out in Mythal's training grounds. His tunic is light and sleeveless, and it can see the muscles in his arms stretch and flex. His brow is furrowed in apparent concentration. His skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Tenacity heaves a sigh of admiration.

"I wish I could do that," it notes wistfully, floating a bit closer when Pride stops for a brief respite.

"You wish to know how to fight with a blade?" Pride wonders, pulling his hair up off his neck and wiping away perspiration with a damp towel.

"Well, not specifically," the spirit replies, "Although I wouldn't mind learning how to use physical weapons. They take a lot of time and patience and effort to master with any competence. I doubt I would make a very good general, though. Not like you."

"I would not say that," Pride grins at it, "A good general should be tenacious. You should inspire your people to fight until the bitter end."

"But the best generals know when to fall back, too," Tenacity blinks at him, "I don't know how. It is one thing to risk your own life to pursue your goals, and it is something else to expect other people to risk theirs. I…do not know if I want to be that."

"You are kind," Pride tells it, his expression turning soft, "Perhaps weapons would not suit you at all. Besides, even though there are some spirits who can form weapons for themselves, I suspect you would have some trouble with it. Any weapon small enough for you to wield would likely only be useful against the birds loitering about the palace. And we both know what sort of ruckus Thenvunin would likely stir up if you made attempts to brandish anything at _them_."

"I might have to if that big angry one from his garden keeps breaking out and trying to eat me," it says with a hint of annoyance, its form shivering slightly at the memory. "But…I could learn to fight with a weapon if I took a body like yours? I probably would not have to worry about Thenvunin's vicious pets, either."

Pride frowns.

"It is true enough that a body is useful for some things," he allows, "But it is also an inescapable shackle. It changes you in more ways than you can prepare yourself for. I would not… I would advise against it, my friend."

"But _you_ took a body," Tenacity insists, "And if I was an elf, I could go with you to Arlathan. Maybe even to camps and battlefields once I learn how to fight or heal or something useful. I could help you more! I would not be nearly so little, and I could carry much larger books and all sorts of things! I have always wanted to know what if felt like to have sore muscles and lungs burning with exertion. And sweating! I have always wondered what it was like to work hard enough to sweat. To have a shape that showed real signs of all the effort put into achieving something. It must be marvelous!"

"Sweating is highly overrated," Pride assures it, wrinkling his nose at the grimy sensation still lingering on his face and neck. "And Arlathan would hardly be safer for you as an elf, to say nothing of camps and battlefields. Not to mention the fact that becoming a follower of Mythal, or any Evanuris for that matter, would mean that you would be assigned duties. You would not be free to follow me about all day, or help people as you wished." 

"But…maybe I could help other people in new ways?" it suggests, "And if Arlathan would not be safe for me, how is it any safer for you?"

"Because I have a high rank as well as the Lady Mythal's favor," Pride sighs, "I took a body at her behest, and…I am not sure it was the right choice. Even now. I do not wish such regret upon you. As a spirit, there are only so many cruelties that others might visit upon you, and for now at least, association with me is enough to shield you from them. As an elf, there are far more ways to torment and confine and injure, and I…might not be able to protect you from all of it. I have my lady's ear, and she is kind and merciful, but even that would not stop some people. You would likely be midranking, at best, and other followers with more prestige and connections could find perfectly legal ways of abusing you."

Tenacity pauses for a moment, thoughtful and flickering. Its light glows softly, with gentleness or sorrow, it is difficult to say.

"I can't stay in a safe little box until the end of time," it tells him quietly, "Even one built by a friend. It goes against what I am. Survival is tenacious, but never taking a chance on something new is not. It is complacency. It is… _stagnation_. I can learn. I can adapt and grow. I can become more than I am, just like you want to be. I…do not think it would be so terrible, to be as you are."

"I will not stop you, if that is truly your desire," Pride says, his expression neutral, but his tone unhappy.

"But you won't help me, either?" Tenacity guesses, its light growing dim with unexpected hurt.

"Not in this," Pride replies, pointedly avoiding meeting its gaze, "You are my friend, and I do not wish to take part in anything that might harm you. Even if it is something you are choosing to do to yourself. Please, do not ask me again."

"Pride…" Tenacity starts, but he waves it off, picking up his sword and the rest of his gear and walking away without another word.

Tenacity sighs to itself, turning to glide back in the direction of the library. Still wanting a body of its own, but feeling a little deflated at the rejection of its friend. It will…bide its time. Learn and study until it is certain without a shred of doubt that this is the choice it wants to make. Pride will see when it is done, it thinks. He will realize that it was the right decision. Tenacity will be helpful and strong with a solid form, and then… Then Pride cannot be upset with it for taking one. 


	3. Chapter 3

Several weeks go by before Tenacity speaks with Pride again. This time he is the one seeking through the Dreaming, finding his friend in a little grove of flowering trees. Its favorite place in its old home out in the woods.

Tenacity looks a bit different than normal. Bigger and shaped more solidly, like an elf. It has some vague suggestions of limbs and a fiery wreath of pale hair. It gleams with unexpected pleasure as it greets him, and he heaves a sigh of relief.

“I thought you might be upset with me after our last discussion,” he admits, “I did not want you to presume… Well. I still do not think that taking a body would be wise. But you are my friend, and I will not shun you if you choose this path. You have helped me several times over the years, and should you require help adjusting to things afterwards, I would be happy to assist.”

“Thank you, Pride,” Tenacity buzzes happily, its form flickering back to its usual shape for a few moments before stretching back into the one it had been holding before. “I am practicing having arms and legs to see how I like them. I couldn’t hold it very well in the Waking, so I had to come here. I am not sure I made this shape heavy enough, though. Everyone I have talked to says that most bodies are very heavy.”

“They are heavy,” Pride agrees, “Burdensome, even. And lumbering, more often than not.”

“You seem to handle yours well enough,” Tenacity returns brightly, undaunted by his warnings, “And I have seen many elves move gracefully, especially when Lady Mythal holds one of her festivals. The dancing is always fascinating to observe. I suppose it is possible that I might not be capable of steering my new body with much elegance, but with time and effort, I am certain I could achieve it.”

It twirls around him once, as though performing a waltz of its own, arms swaying like branches in the wind.

“If I take a body, would you dance with me, Pride?” it wonders.

“I would dance with you as you are now,” he counters with an arched brow, “Bodies are hardly a prerequisite for such things.”

“You wouldn’t dance with me at a festival, though,” Tencaity blinks at him with eyes like burning coals, “I am not the right shape for it in the Waking. I could barely hold your hand. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You would not embarrass me,” Pride attempts to reassure it, but his expression slides into a doubtful frown.

“It’s alright, Pride,” Tenacity says gently, “I do not suppose I would be very good at dancing, even without a 'lumbering' body. I have never tried to hold someone’s hand. Or waist. Or anything. Is it difficult? The lovers that come to the library for their poems all fret about it very passionately. Almost as much as kissing. And sex. I do not have much of a head for any of it. Does it really feel like shooting stars and storms of fire and the lightest brush of flower petals all at once?”

"I…uh. I confess, I do not have much experience with such matters myself," Pride coughs.

"Why not?" Tenacity wonders.

"I suppose I have not found anyone I wished to try it with," he sighs.

"But I have seen you dance with people," it replies, slightly confused, "Did that not feel like poetry?"

"Physical touch is a curious thing," he attempts to explain, "It can feel very different depending on who is doing it and how you feel about them. One who is skilled at lovemaking may bring pleasure with their touch, but it generally lacks the… _fervor_ one would presumably experience when sharing such activities with someone you care for." 

"So…you have not cared for your dance partners?" it asks.

"Not in a romantic sense," Pride confirms, "Some of them were pleasant enough people, I suppose."

"Then…if romance does not need to be a factor," it begins, floating a little closer, "May I attempt to hold your hand? I might be able to help the tenacious would-be lovers I meet more effectively if I had a better idea of what they wanted."

"Certainly, though I suspect it will not feel the same as if two people with bodies were touching," Pride replies, extending his hand none the less.

"I can be more solid here," Tenacity says confidently, "If I my will is strong enough, I can feel your skin against me as much as your magic."

So saying, it reaches out and places the end of one tendril-like arm in the palm of his hand. It does its best to form fingers, thin squiggling little things that curl about his own. The touch is very gentle, almost hesitant.

"I can feel your intensity and your purpose," Pride tells it, "But it still does not quite feel like skin. It is more reminiscent of…a warm breeze. Or perhaps a smooth stone that has been sitting out in the sunlight."

"Is it unpleasant?" Tenacity wonders, pulling its arm away slowly.

"Not at all," Pride reassures it.

"I believe I felt more of your spirit than your body," Tenacity admits, sounding a bit disappointed, "Spirits of Desire and Lust can take shapes that mimic bodies in the Dreaming so easily. And even in the Waking, at times. Perhaps I should seek guidance from one of them."

"It is the wishes and feelings of others that grant those spirits the ability to touch," Pride tells it, "Your will is formidable, my friend, but you are Tenacity, not Purpose or Determination. You are more adaptable, and therefore more nebulous in your shape. And attempting to touch me specifically likely ended with poor results due to the fact that I have no wish for you to be other than you are."

"I will still be myself, Pride," Tenacity promises, "I will just be… _more_ , too."

"How can you know for certain?" Pride presses, "What if the shackles of a physical form rob you of everything you feel makes you what you are?"

"I suppose I can't know that," Tenacity shrugs, "But I would hope that however I ended up changing, it would be for the better. And if it is not, then I will have to rely on my friends, like you and Curiosity and Compassion, to tell me I have gone astray. There is not always a clear path that leads to the destination we might wish for. I will keep searching for what I seek. I will do my best to keep the parts of me that are true and bright and admirable. I will keep trying to do better. Failure does not have to be permanent or absolute."

"I suppose that is all that can be done," he sighs. "I pray that your effort and determination bears the fruit of your desires, my friend. It would grieve me to lose you."

"And I you," it replies easily, "But there is no need to be so morose, Pride. Spirits take bodies all the time, it is not as if the process would shatter me."

Pride smiles at it sadly. 

"I hope you are right." 


	4. Chapter 4

The district manager who oversees Lady Mythal’s library at her lakeside palace turns down Tenacity’s petition for embodiment. Not in such a way that it would be barred from seeking it elsewhere, but just in this particular region for the foreseeable future. They are not currently trying to bolster the number of followers here, and Tenacity is only a small spirit, without much power or influence. There is nothing to gain by giving it a body, and nothing to lose by refusing it.

However, Tenacity was expecting this to some extent, and it is more than ready to dig its metaphorical heels in until the manager decides to see reason.

The man is a worthy adversary to test its will against. His name is Haninassan, and he has a face that looks like it might have been chiseled out of a particularly craggy mountainside. There are rumors that he used to be a general at one point, hundreds of years ago, but whether he retired from that life in favor of a job that involved less blood and death or was demoted for some grave misstep, no one seems willing to admit. Tenacity is tempted to ask him itself, but it does not suppose that would help its petition any. 

He is a very good manager. People tend to listen to him without his having to shout or repeat himself. He carries an aura of one who should not be trifled with. He is tenacious in his own way, which the spirit can certainly appreciate, but it still wants a body, and it is not about to give up on its goals.

Even if it means making a nuisance of itself.

It decides that once a week is probably frequent enough to visit his office and remind him about its petition. Haninassan takes it with a good grace, for the most part. He simply continues with his paperwork while Tenacity lists the various reasons why it should be allowed to have a body, and when it seems like the little spirit has run out of things to say, he casually turns it down and ushers it back out the door.

Tenacity is only about three weeks into its campaign when it comes into Haninassan’s office one morning to find him looking unusually harried and shuffling several piles of papers around his desk.

“Not now, firefly,” he says dismissively, waving it off, “Find someone else to pester today. I have to prepare rooms for Lady Andruil and her hunters. I do not have time to spare for you.”

“Hunters?” Tenacity buzzes curiously. It knows of wild hunters; wolves and bears and other large lurking beasts who roamed the forest. Somehow it does not think that Lady Mythal would permit such creatures to roam freely in her palace, even if they are travelling with her daughter.

"Lady Andruil's most fierce and favored followers," Haninassan explains, sounding distracted, "They tend to be a loud and unruly lot, and I would much prefer to house them in one of the more remote areas of the palace to avoid as many fights and bits of broken finery as possible. Unfortunately, many of the rooms in those areas are not fine enough for followers of their station. I would not dare to insult my lady's noble daughter by giving her people unsatisfactory lodging. Compromises must be made. Furniture moved. And if Thenvunin comes in here one more time to complain about which rooms I choose, I just might give them his chambers to stay in and let him sleep out into the garden with his birds."

"They sound fascinating!" Tenacity proclaims with an enthusiastic little twirl.

"I would stay out of their way if I were you," Haninassan warns, "Some of them see spirits as fair game for a hunt. I know that Pride has taken a shine to you, but I would not rely solely on his protection in this case."

"I am sure they can be reasoned with," Tenacity replies blithely, already floating back towards the door.

"Suit yourself," Haninassan shrugs, turning back to his paperwork with a sigh.

As promised, the Lady Andruil arrives with her entourage the next day. They are nearly all wearing at least some armor, as though expecting a battle at any moment, and there is an air of confidence and danger to them. And a hungry sort of greed, too. Like a pack of wolves after an especially lean winter.

Tenacity thinks that they are very exciting.

Pride disagrees.

"Andruil's followers have savage reputations," he informs Tenacity with his hands on his hips, blocking the path to the main dining hall, "And I have seen firsthand that their reputations are well-earned. Half of them stab each other simply as a form of greeting."

"Really?!" Tenacity asks, sounding more eager than ever.

Pride sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That was not meant as an enticement," he grates out. "I know that you must be all but bursting with curiosity, my friend, but it would be wiser for you to maintain a low profile until they are gone. You can even stay in my chambers, if you like. And I would gladly share my memories of all the festivities once they have left."

" _You're_ the one who wants to be wise, Pride," Tenacity laughs. "If I only see them from your memories, my impression will be colored by your perceptions. And I won't be able to ask them any questions of my own. I came into being in a forest, remember? I have met my fair share of beasts."

"Yes, but a real beast would not attempt to break you out of boredom," Pride points out frowningly.

"Surely, they are not _all_ like that," the little spirit insists.

"Perhaps," Pride allows, "But is it worth dying to find out?"

"You always worry too much," it tells him, its light flickering fondly, "But I will be…cautious. When choosing to approach any of them. If it will make you feel better."

"I suppose that is the best offer I am likely to receive," he replies with a huff of exasperation.

"It is!" Tenacity agrees happily, whirling past him into the dining hall and flitting around for an appropriate roost to sit and observe their guests.

For all the alarming reports it had received about them, Andruil's favored do not strike Tenacity as especially vicious. They are boisterous and loud, and their humor is quite a bit crasser than what one might usually hear in the halls of Mythal's palace, but they are not nearly as unruly as it had been led to believe. Perhaps they are on their best behavior, though.

It supposes that they must ruffle the feathers of some of Mythal's more stuffy and serious followers, Thenvunin seems to be practically beside himself, but to Tenacity's eyes the hunters and their desires all seem…simple. Straightforward. Reach higher. Be stronger. Eat or be eaten. Survive. Endure. 

In some ways, their blunt heckling and cajoling and mild threats almost seem refreshing. Tenacity does find all the posturing and obfuscating and scheming that some of the higher ranking members of Mythal's holdings take part in to be rather tiring at times. And a bit pointless. It prefers a fair fight, if there is to be one. To know your enemy is your enemy, and not worry that your friend might place a danger in your ribs the moment your back is turned.

They might all be out to get each other, but at least they _know_ that they are all out to get each other.

Still, it supposes that it would be stressful to be forced to live in close proximity to dozens of other people who might stab you at any given moment. Tenacity has never been stabbed, of course, but it has been led to believe that it is very unpleasant. It wonders if it is rude to ask someone how many times they have been stabbed. It seems like it must be, although it cannot quite pinpoint the reason why.

Tenacity frowns as one of the rowdier hunters grabs hold of a passing server, Saerill, and drags him down onto their lap. He does not seem especially thrilled by this development, but it is clear that he is not about to risk upsetting their guests and offending his mistresses' daughter. It turns the spirit's mind in a new direction; to how much worse it must be for the lower ranking hunters, who are still keenly aware that the others might mean them harm, and have little means to protect themselves from it. At the very worst, Mythal's servant only needs to wait for Andruil to leave and take her followers with her, but a servant in her own household would have no such reprieve.

Tenacity thinks it is beginning to understand why Pride does not like them very much. 

Just when it thinks it might be time to find Pride or Tarensa, or someone else of suitable rank and moral standing to intervene on Saerill's behalf, another hunter gets up and walks down towards the imperiled servant and his accoster. They are small, although they are still many times bigger than Tenacity, and their armor is very sharp and very red, and they seem to be very annoyed about something. The little spirit pauses, wondering what might happen. It does not seem likely that this hunter would rescue a servant from their fellows, but there is something strange about them. Something different and frightening…and a little familiar, too. Some small bright flicker to them.

_Tenacious._

How curious.

The red hunter does not bother with their brethren and their prey, as the spirit thought they might. Instead, they reach for a tray of some kind of meat on the table just in front of the person sitting next to the pair in question, complaining loudly that Mythal's servants seem to be too busy to actually take care of the duties of tending to their hungry guests. Their movements are swift and, as they are covered in quite a few rather large spikes, the elf they reach past jerks away from them abruptly, hissing out a curse and sloshing a great deal of drink onto the hunter beside her as well as the servant they had been pestering.

The reaction is instantaneous. The amorous hunter all but drops Mythal's servant onto the floor as they practically launch themselves at the person next to them. Before long, three other people have been drawn into the fray, and half of the dishes on the table are in ruins before Tarensa, Thenvunin, and a few midranking guards manage to break it up.

The servant who was getting harassed wisely decides to sneak away to some distant corner of the dining hall amidst the chaos. And the red hunter slips quietly back up to their seat near Andruil with their tray still in hand. Their expression is impassive, but Tenacity thinks it catches their gaze lingering a little on the servant as he slips away.

Curious, indeed.

Tenacity decides that it would be prudent to approach the red hunter when they are not surrounded by their fellows.

At first it tries to find them in the Dreaming after the evening meal is finished, but there is no sign of their sleeping mind, even though it is very late. When its initial plan falls flat, the little spirit has to make do with trying to find which one of the rooms in Mythal's palace have been granted to their unusual visitor instead. As it happens, the red hunter has a reputation among the other spirits, and it is not the one that it had been expecting. They all seem to want to give the red hunter a fairly wide birth, but they are at least able to inform Tenacity that the person it seeks is one of Andruil's most favored and highest ranking followers, and has therefore been granted one of the nicest set of guestrooms.

The hunter is lounging in a small sitting room attached to their suite, a vast array of throwing darts and cutlery spread before them on a low table. They seem to be taking inventory and doing general maintenance on their gear. Polishing and sharpening things as needed and whistling snatches of a song Tenacity does not know every now and again.

"I was fairly certain that I locked and warded that door," they note mildly as Tenacity bobs towards them. Their expression looks very carefully neutral, but the spirit thinks that they are not happy about having a late night guest in their room.

"You did," it assures them, "So, I came in through the Dreaming instead."

"That does not explain how you got past my wards," they frown.

"I am very small?" it suggests with a shiver to its form that might be the equivalent of a shrug.

"You could have simply knocked," they point out.

"But you might not have let me in," Tenacity blinks, "And I wanted to speak with you."

"Stubborn nosy little thing, aren't you?" the hunter snorts. "You do not look like the other spirits of curiosity I have seen."

"I am Tenacity!" it exclaims with a twirl and a few small dramatic bursts of light, "Pride told me that I should be cautious when approaching Andruil's followers because they do not all treat spirits kindly, so I thought that it might be better if we spoke alone."

"And what makes you think that I am not like the hunters Mythal's pet wolf warned you about?" they wonder with a smirk. They have unnervingly sharp teeth. "Here you are, alone with me in relative seclusion. I could do all sorts of terrible things to you, and no one would be able to stop me."

"I…suppose you could," Tenacity admits, flickering with a touch of uncertainty, "But…"

"But?" the hunter asks.

"What you did for Saerill in the dining hall was very kind," it tells them quietly, "I do not think you would hurt me just for wanting to speak with you."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," they insist flatly. 

"Was it an accident, then?" Tenacity wonders, "You do not strike me as the sort of person who does anything unintentionally, least of all kindness."

"And what sort of person do I strike you as?" they ask in turn.

It fixes them with an intense stare, not just looking, but _seeing_. After a moment, it's faces twists, and it shakes itself, the light of its being flickering slightly. Despite that, it floats a little closer to them, more intrigued than wary. 

"You are very strange," it decides.

The hunter raises an eyebrow.

"It is not a bad thing!" Tenacity assures them, "I am just not sure how to say it better. Pride is always telling me that I need to be less blunt with my phrasing. Apparently, honesty is distressing for many people. I do not understand it very well."

"Truth is often a dagger that cuts both ways," the hunter snorts, clearly amused, but apparently not willing to offer more insight than that.

"Yes, your strangeness is like that," the spirit agrees, which earns it another curious glance, "You want very badly to be something, and so you hide and posture and talk in circles. But the thing that you want is already yours, and it always has been. So, you see, it does not make any sense."

The hunter does not look amused anymore.

"I am one of Lady Andruil's most favored hunters, and she is a most generous benefactor," they say, their face curling into a very unfriendly sort of smile, "What do else do you suppose I could ever possibly hope for?"

"I do not know," Tenacity admits, seemingly unaware of their discomfort, "I am a very small spirit, and you are very good at hiding things, I think. You have buried the thing you are reaching for very deep. Down under the shadows where the little spark is gleaming like a star in the night. Where you once a spirit? Perhaps we were born of something similar. There is something familiar and resonating in the shine of you."

They do not seem to know what to make of that.

"I…do not remember much of my time in the Dreaming," they say with a slight inclination of their head, "I prefer not to speak of it."

"Pride was not happy when he was a spirit, either," Tenacity tells them, "But he was even less happy to take a body. I still want one, but I would be sad to lose memories of my time in the dreams of the forest. Is it normal to forget?"

"I am led to believe it is common to lose memories of various sensations," they sigh, "You will not move so easily through dreams. You will struggle to recall what it felt like to not have a body. It is more challenging for some than others."

"Was it challenging for you?" it wonders.

"…No," they say, but their voice is almost soft, and their emotions are held tight within them.

Tenacity blinks.

"It is alright to admit that something was difficult for you," the spirit says, "To overcome adversity is all that I embody. It is a good feeling. A strong feeling, even if it is small. It does not matter that you struggled. That you cried or bled. It only matters that you kept trying. That you reached the place you were seeking. You must be very tenacious, I think. It is admirable."

"You presume much," the hunter tells it, but they do not seem offended. In fact, they seem almost oddly charmed. "But I suppose you cannot help it."

"I was trying to be nice!" Tenacity objects.

"You are also a bit conceited," the hunter hums, "Probably from spending too much time with a former pride spirit."

"Hey!" it interjects, "That's no way to speak to someone who was only trying to help!"

"I thought you enjoyed honesty," they smirk.

The spirit pauses, makes a face of slight consternation, but then laughs a moment later.

"I suppose I did ask for that," it agrees.

"Speaking of asking for things," the red hunter says, leaning back on the couch and twirling on of their many knives through their fingers, "I would prefer it if you did not mention the specifics of this conversation with others. It could make things…complicated."

"I can keep a secret!" the little spirit promises with a twirl.

"Like you kept the wolf's feelings about being a spirit secret?" they wonder archly. 

"Pride has never asked me not to tell people that," Tenacity frowns, "Is it a bad thing to tell? Many people struggle when they first take a body. It is one of the reasons he is worried about my wanting one."

"It is not bad, per se, but it exposes a potential weakness," they explain, "And a means of embarrassing him. As a former spirit of pride, I imagine he is not very adept at handling such humiliations."

"You…would not hurt him with it, would you?" it asks hesitantly, its light dimming to a dying ember.

The hunter closes their eyes and sighs, looking severely put-upon.

"I suggest a bargain," they reply after a moment, "So long as you keep my secret, I will not take advantage of his."

Tenacity blinks at them again, surprised for a moment, but then glittering with amusement.

"I knew you were kind," it accuses them with a giggle.

"I can be generous when it suits, but that does not make me _kind_ ," the hunter insists with a hiss, "There is simply nothing to gain at present by making things miserable for Mythal's pet."

"If you say so," Tenacity smiles. "If we are exchanging favors, may I also ask for your name?"

The red hunter raises a brow at it.

"Uthvir."

"The Unending Path," the spirit beams, "How marvelous! I knew it when I saw you in the dining hall!"

"Knew what?" Uthvir wonders doubtfully.

"I knew that you were like me!" it exclaims happily, " _Tenacious!_ "


	5. Chapter 5

“Are you beautiful, Pride?” Tenacity asks one day while they are having a picnic out by the lake. 

Well, to be more precise, Pride is eating on a blanket by the water while Tenacity zips around encouraging the flowers to bloom despite the lack of rain the past few weeks.

The elf in question nearly chokes on the sticky sweet roll he had been enjoying.

“I- uh. I believe that might be a matter of opinion,” he sputters a moment later. “Why do you ask?”

“Many people say that Uthvir is beautiful. Scary, too, of course. But still pleasing to look at,” It begins, floating a bit closer to him, “They do not refute the fact that they are beautiful. They are aware of their reputation and use it to their advantage. People also say that flowers and jewels are beautiful as well, but I do not think that Uthvir looks like either of those things. You do not look like them either, and you also do not look like Uthvir, so I was curious whether or not if you were considered beautiful.”

Pride makes a face as though he is not quite sure if he has been insulted or not.

“It still baffles me that you made friends with Uthvir, of all people,” he sighs out at last.

“We are very much alike, so it was not hard to be their friend,” it smiles at him.

“I have a hard time believing that,” he huffs.

“I know,” it says, glowing fondly, “That is because you are Pride. But I like you for it anyway.”

His cheeks pink a bit at that.

“Why the sudden concern with my reputation in regards to my appearance?” he wonders.

“Oh, I was simply trying to understand the concept of beauty a bit better, that is all,” it tells him, “I do not think the idea of it is very congruous to my nature. I suppose that any body I might take would most likely not be very beautiful to look at. I am not certain that would be a bad thing, though.”

“All things are relative, my friend,” he says with a faint smile.

“What does that mean?” it asks in turn.

“Simply that those who enjoy your company will find you pleasing to look at because they think of you as endearing, regardless of physical attraction,” he explains.

“So…emotional connection is a determining factor in beauty?” Tenacity blinks, “Similar to the way you said that touching can be different depending on how you feel about someone?”

“Well…emotional attachment is not _necessary_ for one person to think of another as beautiful, but it is generally a factor, yes,” he replies. “And just because you find someone beautiful does not always mean you would find them attractive in a romantic sense.”

“This is all very confusing,” the little spirit sighs. “Perhaps it would be easiest not to engage in such messy feelings at all.”

“Undoubtedly,” Pride laughs, “Although you might not have much say in the matter, if you do take a body.”

“Do bodies cause people to look more attractive to one another?” Tenacity gapes. “Does everyone who takes a body suddenly have an interest in such things, even if they do not wish to?”

“Not everyone with a body is interested in romance, physical or otherwise,” Pride shakes his head, “But many Dreaming Born find themselves developing feelings and attractions that would not have been part of their nature as a spirit.”

“But _you_ have not found yourself attracted to anyone since you took a body, Pride,” it points out, “If you have never been in love with someone, how can you know when it happens? How can you tell when you find someone beautiful? How do you know what you like?”

“Well, one would assume that it is the sort of thing that would be recognizable when it happens, if it does happen,” he coughs, a little awkward again, “And I…have met elves I thought were beautiful, but I was not in love with them. I am generally more interested in the beauty of someone’s spirit than their physical form.”

“If you will not know you love someone until it happens, does that mean it could be anyone?” Tenacity wonders. Its eyes grow wide. “Oh! What if you fell in love with me?”

“What?” Pride laughs.

“It would make everything so much easier!” it exclaims, “We could figure out being in love together!”

“I…do not think that is how that works,” Pride tries to explain, still seeming amused, but trying to be gentle, “People do not simply decide to be in love with each other, as a general rule. You might not even find me attractive if you take a body.”

“But I would still be pleased to see you,” Tenacity argues, “I would be fond of your shape because I am fond of you, just as I am now. If feelings are connected to a sense of attraction, then it would follow that I would most likely find you beautiful, because I enjoy your company. Kissing and courting and all of those things does not seem like it would be much of a stretch from those feelings. Or would it?”

Pride does not seem to know what to say to that.

“I…suppose that does not mean that you would find my body pleasing, though,” it continues, dimming a bit, “I just thought it would be nice. Romantic love seems like such a big feeling, and no one seems to be able to explain it to me in a way I can understand. I am not sure I would be very good at it, but I believe I would like to try. To truly love someone seems like it must be a worthy goal.”

Pride’s face creases in mild concern, holding his hand out to his friend in offering. Tenacity obligingly floats over to settle in his palm, looking up at him curiously. The emotions around him seem conflicted, and it cannot parse them very well. Perhaps when it is not so small it will be easier. It will understand more because it will feel more. The broader scope of the world.

“To truly love someone is admirable, indeed,” he begins slowly, “But true love does not necessarily have to be romantic or sexual in nature. It is just as noble to be a devoted friend or a loyal guardian. I believe that you are already capable of loving things truly as you are now. Tenacity does not always have to be generous, but you are. You have a bright and gentle heart. You do not need a body to know what love is, my friend.”

“And do you love me truly as I am now, Pride?” it wonders, “As one friend loves another?”

“I do,” he admits easily enough.

“And will you still love me truly when my shape is solid?” it presses, its little body bright with the rosy glow of genuine pleasure.

Pride closes his eyes for a moment and heaves a weary sigh.

“Of course.” 

"Then I will continue to love you truly as well," it declares, sounding determined now, "Even if we find each other's physical forms very unappealing, and we do not wish to kiss or touch or have sex. I will be your devoted friend, even if you do not find me beautiful."

Pride snorts.

"And I will continue to be your friend even if you do not find _me_ beautiful," he returns with a laugh.

"Do you promise?" Tenacity beams.

"I promise."


End file.
